Prisoner
by AlianneLovesLiam
Summary: George always knew Aly was like him, but when she ends up in prison with one of the youngest Rogues in history, he realizes that she may be more like her mother. (No incest- romance genre comes from Aly and the current Rogue at the time she is actually alive, NOT her and George)
1. Characters

_Prisoner_ Character Sketches

Name: Randall McNeal

Nickname: Rand

Position: King of the Thieves at the Court of the Rogue

Age: 16

Birth: August 12, 446 H.E.

Physical Features: Black hair, forest green eyes, eyebrow scar (left), crooked nose (broken 3 times), normal build, Tortallan descent, 6' 4.5"

Family: Mother only close relative. Distant cousins, vagabond father.

Other: Fair with punishment, though stern. Helps others when they provide substantial proof that they need it. Has relationship with Alianne Cooper, daughter of former Rogue, Baron George Cooper, and Sir Alanna the Lioness of Tortall, King's Champion. Incredibly strong Gift.

Name: Claire Denofre

Nickname: Katie Mae

Position: Prostitute/Seducer

Age: 20

Birth: December 31, 442 H.E.

Physical Features: Brown hair, dark eyes, half-Carthaki, slim build, Carthaki/Tortallan descent, 5' 6"

Family: 14-year-old sister, one-year-old daughter

Other: One of the first prostitutes to support Rand's rule. Fiery, but afraid to speak her mind. Queen of the Rogue.

Name: Clyde Harel

Nickname: Quicksilver

Position: Enforcer/ Bodyguard

Age: 35

Birth: May 1, 427 H.E.

Physical Features: Dishwater blond hair, stormy gray eyes. Would be handsome, but has countless scars, heavy build, Tortallan descent, 6' 6"

Family: Eighth cousin he hates

Other: Clyde never supported the old Rogue. He was one of Rand's first allies and doesn't take any s**t from anyone who talks bad about himself or Rand. Is feared among supporters of the old regime and helps keep rebellion low. Jokey, but very intimidating when threatened.

Name: Myzan Zantile

Nickname: Pyro

Position: Arsonist

Age: 13

Birth: July 8, 449 H.E.

Physical Features: Black hair, dark brown eyes, Burn mark on left wrist, slim build, Yamani descent, 5' 7".

Family: Younger sister that resides at Dancing Dove under protection of Rand.

Other: Pyro came to be an arsonist by burning down his house in anger. His abusive father was drunk in the house. He got his younger sister and their prized possessions out and was called to Rand's court to be punished. Rand heard him out then employed him and arranged for his sister's keep. His mother was murdered by his father. Gift-would be black robe if training in Carthak during Numair's time. Has some control, but learning from Rand.

Name: Farian Lewis

Nickname: Lady Love

Position: Prostitute

Age: 22

Birth: September 15, 440 H.E.

Physical Features: Golden white hair, blue gray eyes, light dusting of freckles, Tortallan descent, 5' 2"

Family: Two daughters- Arianne,18 months , and Liberty,6 months

Other: Only started supporting Rand after her trusted friend, Quicksilver, joined. Any relationship between them is totally platonic. Knows Aly well. Faint Gift (unuseful except for helping with endurance a bit).

Name: Alianne Cooper

Nicknames: Aly, Lady Moon

Position: Prostitute/ Advisor to Rand

Age: 16

Birth: January 26, 446 H.E.

Physical Features: Strawberry blonde hair, greenish-hazel eyes, Tortallan descent, 5' 6"

Family: Alanna (mother) George (father) Thom (older brother) Alan (twin) Eleni (grandmother) Myles (grandfather) assorted godsparents and adopted aunts and uncles.

Other: Originally met Rand at the Dancing Dove, a place she frequented when she was angry at her mother. Those nights she usually prostituted herself. Helped plan the rebellion with Quicksilver and Rand. Sight.

Name: Kira Highstock

Nicknames: Rosella

Position: Prostitute

Age: 30

Birth: February 14, 432 H.E.

Physical Features: Blonde hair, blue eyes. Normal build, on the slim side, Scanran descent, 5' 5"

Family: Bril (brother) Engul (brother)

Other: Not high up in the hierarchy of the Lower City, though she helps in the seduction department when needed. Minor healing Gift-not enough to start a business, though helps some in stressful times.

Name: Leon Redbeard

Nickname: Lee

Position: Guard at Provost's prison/ informant

Age: 32

Birth: August 25, 430 H.E.

Physical Features: Red hair and beard, green gray eyes, flushed complexion, Gallan descent, 5' 11"

Family: Ivian (brother)

Other: Just your average crooked guard. Sergeant in the Provost Guard. Not all that bright, but keeps his mouth shut.

Name: George Cooper

Nickname: None

Position: Baron of Pirate's Swoop, Assistant Spymaster of Tortall

Age: 50

Birth: September 6, 412 H.E.

Physical Features: Brown hair, hazel eyes, crooked nose, Tortallan descent, 6' 4".

Family: Eleni (mother), Myles (step-father), Aly, Alan, Thom (children), Alanna (wife)

Other: Formerly the youngest Rogue in history-only one who retired successfully (didn't get killed in the process), mischievous, has the Sight.

Name: Jayla Sheerdale

Nickname: Ruby

Position: Prostitute

Age: 17

Birth: October 31, 445 H.E.

Physical Features: Ash blonde hair, cobalt blue/gray eyes, normal feminine build, curvy, Gallan descent, 5' 8"

Family: Lyla (younger sister), Parents (no contact), Oscar (older brother)

Other: Kicked out of house by mother at age 15- considered to weak to be useful. Started working as prostitute after Rand came to power. Supports younger sister Lyla.

Name: Oscar Sheerdale

Nickname: Fiddler

Position: Enforcer, Entertainer

Age: 19

Birth: November 20, 443 H.E.

Physical Features: Ash blond hair, gray eyes, slim-ish build, 5' 11", Gallan descent.

Family: Lyla (youngest sister), Jayla (oldest sister), Parents (no contacts)

Other: Enforces Rand's rules and regime. Called Fiddler because he started making money in Port Caynn by playing his fiddle- still plays infrequently at drunken orgies at Dancing Dove or other Rogue outposts throughout the city.

Name: Alanna Cooper

Nickname: None

Position: Baroness of Pirate's Swoop, King's Champion, Knight of Tortall

Age: 43

Birth: April 14, 419 H.E.

Physical Features: Very red hair, violet eyes, stocky build, Tortallan descent, 5' 4".

Family: Eleni (mother-in-law), Myles (foster father), George (husband), Aly, Alan, Thom (children)

Other: First female knight in a century, favored by the Great Mother Goddess, volatile temper, honorable and chilvarious.

Name: Raul Wolcott

Nickname: None

Position: Head of the Provost Guard (Lord Provost)

Age: 474

Birth: March 4, 415 H.E.

Physical Features: Prematurely gray hair, piercing blue eyes, sharp features, muscular build, though not heavy, Gallan/Tortallan descent, 6' 2".

Family: Wife (Lady Wren of Fief Aleerian)

Other: Known for fairness. Rather intimidating. Tries to joke, but is often just looked at oddly.

Name: Malachi Declan

Nickname:


	2. Prologue

_Prisoner_

_Italics_: Thought

Prologue

The flames spread quickly over the house. The orange-red fire held a certain beauty against the night sky. Or maybe it was that they- Aly, His Majesty (the very unhonorable King of the Rogue), Bold Brian, Quicksilver, Pyro, Lady Love, Katie Mae, and a selection of prostitutes and bullies, were just giddy at the thought that one of their worst enemies was burning alive in the damned gilded house.

"Hear, hear!" shouted King Rand, "The night is one fer celebratin', but the Provost ought to be here soon. Clear out!"

As the many low-lives and murderers started taking back alleys to the Dancing Dove, the Provost arrived. Ever since Rand took power, they had slowly been getting better. The night, 'one for celebrating', got much, much worse.


	3. Chapter 1

Chapter One-The Provost

_Gods. How could this have happened? It was supposed to go perfectly. What in the world will my mother think when she finds out?_ Thought Rand. The last question was irrelevant. He knew that now he was the Rogue, no one in the Lower City could stop him. But he still felt that he needed to prove that he was good. Being only 16, he had a lot of pressure to be the best. _"You're not George."_ they would say. In the back of his mind, he answered them. _"No, but I've got his daughter by my side."_

But the fact that he had Aly, sweet fiery Aly, on his side didn't matter anymore. In fact, she was passed out next to him in the cell, bruises marring her lightly tanned skin, blood matting in her strawberry blonde hair that had been perfectly curled last night, falling halfway to her tightly corseted waist. Now all that would accomplish was that she was going to be punished. The only good thing was that he held enough sway over the guards that they put him in a cell with her and weren't going to take the girls out and rape them.

The tramping of footsteps alerted Rand. The Provost was coming. _Here we go…_

~The Truth~

After dragging him with unnecessary force to the 'torture' chamber, (they wouldn't torture him. It was considered too 'barbaric'. They were just idiotically honorable.), Rand sat in silence waiting for the interrogator to come in. _I won't say anything to them. Soon enough they'll ask the Whisper Man to help. I'll say that I won't talk until he gets Aly out. He'll do it because Aly's his daughter. She'll be mad at me, but she'll be safe._

His inner thoughts were interrupted as the questioner entered. He was a tall, burly man with tattoos covering his skin. Laughable.

~Hours Later~

The man's attempts nearly made Rand laugh, though he kept his vigil of silence,

~Lord Provost~

Riding up to the castle gates, he showed the guards his badge and was immediately let through. He rode into the stable yard and passed his horse to the boy lounging against the wall. Walking past the riding areas and barracks, he entered the unofficial entrance and slipped into the stairwell to the second story where nobles stayed. Once reaching the annex, he turned left and went up to the heavy oaken door below the Pirate's Swoop decal. Opening it, he found himself in a fire-lit common room. George looked up in surprise. Alanna scowled/

"Sorry George," he said

"Sorry for what?" asked George.

"You're not the youngest Rogue in history any longer, Just brought in a group of low-lives, Rogue included. The boy's only 16!"

"He must not be very good."

"Oh, he's good alright. The only reason we caught him was he was tryin' to get his people out. Himself? He killed 18 of us. His lass, we can't find out her name, killed upwards of that. We're still counting up for the rest of them. We've been chasin' him for a year."

"I renounce my previous statement. So, you just here to gloat?"

"Far from that. I'm here to ask for your help. We sent our best in with him and can't get anything. I was wonderin' if you would helpus with the interrogatin' of him and his lass."

"Is his girl the queen?"

"No. The queen's half-Carthaki. This one's a blonde lass, prostitute, I'd guess. Bodyguard like, though."

"Smart boy. Women are less conspicuous," he glanced at Alanna. "Rogue women at least."

She rolled her eyes.

"So," said the Provost. "Will you help me?'

"Why, of course."


	4. Chapter 2

~George~

_So, there's a Rogue that's younger than I was. Only he's not going to retire successfully. That's if I can get him to talk. He's got to be a bit of a challenge._ Thought George as he rode to the prison with the Provost. _I wonder who his lass is. Raul didn't say whether they interrogated her or not. This'll be fun._

The prison blocked out the gray sky with tall grime-streaked walls. The gates were immediately opened for the two men. Prisoners looked up dead eyes that gleamed darkly from sunken eye-sockets framed by emaciated faces to see the condition of the new prisoners, to see how much energy to waste beating them down. Surprise and fear were evident in their faces when the saw the Lord Provost and a well-dressed man, possibly a merchant, ride through the gate where usually they would see rough-handed guards dragging young pickpockets or felons. The man gave them an odd look, like he knew how they felt, or could give a damned good guess. Before they could intimidate him though, he followed the Provost into a stable enclosure where the prisoners could not to see or be seen.

The high security cells were in much better condition than the commons. The only times they were used was when someone who committed a horrid crime was sentenced to life in prison or a dangerous criminal was waiting to be questioned. The group of rogues brought in two nights ago fit into the last category, though only three so far were charged with anything; the rest were guilty by association. The three charged were Randall McNeal, or Rand, for murder, indirect conspiracy against the Crown, arson, rape as an accomplice, and other crimes, a thirteen year old of Yamani descent for arson, and a unknown female, sixteen or seventeen, for multiple counts of mass murder, intimidation, and assault.

"Well, that girl's got skill," said George, reading over the list of charges. "So does this Rand character."

"I suppose that's one way to put it, though I prefer to work from the view that they're both criminals."

"Of course you do. Anyway, I'd like to get started, if that's alright."

"I'd call you a fast worker but it'd come out wrong. Let's go," Raul said, gesturing to the left.

~Rand~

Rand heard the light treading of boots on stone as he woke up. Sleeping in a chair wasn't new to him, since Aly had never let him in bed with her when they had just started out, but waking up tied to one was a different experience altogether. The treading stopped feet from the door and the Lord Provost's deep bass rumble could be heard. It was answered by a quieter voice, and Rand could hear his footsteps recede. Anticipation built within him. The head of the Provost Guard wouldn't escort just anyone. It had to be George. It _had _to be.

The door opened and a man stepped through. His face was rugged, not one of a noble. His eyes were mischievous, and a familiar shade of hazel, though he was used to them being greener. His nose was rather large for his face and lines of laughter spread out from the corners of his eyes. He was around fifty or so. Older than Rand expected him to be. The man who Rand was nearly sure was George shut the door and sat in the chair facing his. He regarded Rand for a moment before speaking.

"You know, this place is always warmer than you'd expect it. I'll never get used to it." Rand wasn't fazed by the cheerful banter. He knew that it was for the purpose of putting him off, and it wouldn't work.

"Well, I've no past experience to compare it to, but I did have the overall impression that it would be rather cold," he replied blandly, pretending to examine the walls, which were gray stone. George leaned back in his chair.

"They said they were having trouble making you talk."

Rand didn't answer, just stared deep into George's eyes as he let his Gift gather in his palms. George's eyes narrowed and he glanced quickly down to where the fire-like substance was gathering in Rand's hands. He quickly looked up, an unasked question in his eyes.

_ Are you going to attack me?_

Rand quickly shook his head and jerked his head upwards where he made the listening spells embedded into the stone gleam faintly. Then he pulled the power from them and looked at him.

"Are you George Cooper?" he asked, urgency clear in his voice.

"Do you really need to know that?"

"Yes. I need to know if you'll help me."

"Why would I help you?"

"Answer my question."

"Yes. I am George Cooper."

"What's your daughter's name?"

"Alianne."

"Your oldest son's nickname at the University?"

"Study."

"What does the scar on Alanna's upper left arm look like?"

"A weird cross between a snake and a cat's eye."

Rand sighed and sat back. "Alright. That proves it. Now I'll tell you why I need your help."

"Before we go on, I have one question."'

"Yes?"

"How do you know about that scar?"

"You'll see once you help me. If you're going to."

"As long as it's not helping you get out of prison, I'll consider it." He said, looking at Rand with new respect.

"Well, I'm sure that they've told you about the girl I came in with. Blondish hair, greenish eyes?"

"Yes, but not in detail. I just know that she's charged for multiple counts of mass murder, intimidation, and assault. Why?"

"She's in high security cell 23. If you get the charges against her dropped and her out of prison with a clean record, I'll tell you what you want to know," he could see that questions were forming in George's head. "I'm not expecting you to make up your mind now. You have to see who it is before you make your decision, and if you don't do as I asked, you're a sick twisted bastard and I'll see you to your grave before I'm executed or put in prison for life."

"Alright. I'll see who it is, then tell you my decision."

~Alanna~

"Ma!" shouted Alan from across the courtyard, jogging over.

"Yes, Alan?"

"Do you know where Aly is? I've looked at the stables, the barracks, the riding paddocks, the Royal Forest, well, parts of it, her rooms… Everywhere! I just can't find her!" he shouted, throwing his hands up in defeat. Alanna bit her lower lip.

"I haven't seen her. Maybe she's at your grandparents' house?"

"I don't think so. They're at Pearlmouth for their anniversary and shut down the town house, remember?"

A coldness spread over Alanna. There wasn't a specific reason to be worried, but she felt that something bad had happened. Aly disappeared occasionally, but this time it felt wrong. Very, very wrong.


	5. Chapter 3

~Aly~

Waking up to metallic banging wasn't unusual for Aly, whose mother, the famed Lioness of Tortall, followed the Shang Dragon's instructions and woke up at an ungodly hour to bang at a post with her sword. Aly never would voluntarily choose a sword as her main weapon in a fight, but some part of her craved for her mother's approval. So when she was eight, she took it upon herself to get a sword. Eight years later, she had detailed preferences and could beat her mother two matches out of four. The only thing was, the banging she woke up to now was coming from a burly guard slamming his metal-plated gauntlet against the bars covering the doorway of her room…

_When were there ever bars across my door? And guards? I understand over protectiveness, but this is over the top. What in the world…_

It all came back to her. The joy at watching Papin's house burning, the love she felt watching Rand order his people out, the brief fear when the Provost arrived, the animal savageness that took over her mind, the pain at seeing Rand hurt, killing anyone who got near him. Blood, pained faces, cold iron shackles, sweaty bodies, all of it came rushing back to her. She was snapped out of it by a terrifically loud bang. She looked up in surprise.

"Get up, you filthy, low-down, pig fucking whore," the guard said. Anger flashed through her but she didn't let it show, standing slowly, her back to the wall.

"Hands over your head, back against the wall," he ordered. She did as she was commanded. He pulled out a ring of keys and opened the cell door. After setting down a tray and a pitcher, he backed out. "Now, don't you dare move until I get this door locked, hear?"

"Y-y-yes, s-sir," she said, acting frightened. He glared at her.

"I don't want to hear your voice! You either nod your head or shake your head. Don't talk or stand mute."

She widened her eyes and nodded. "Now come here, wench." She obediently went forward, looking up into his eyes. As soon as she came near enough to the bars that he could touch her, he grabbed her bare shoulder and pulled her close, slamming her face against the cold iron.

"You killed my brother, bitch. If they didn't need to question you, I'd kill you now," He shoved her away and stalked down the dark, barren hall. She turned slowly, and glanced at the food. _Drugged. Figures. _Her Sight wasn't at its best, but she could tell that much. Kicking over the jug of water and dumping the weak soup into the bucket that served as her latrine, she collapsed against the wooden pallet they gave her for a bed. Her face ached painfully; her head felt like it was under siege and it felt as though dull knives were being dragged up and down her throat. _I never knew that prison would be this bad. I mean, this is Tortall, not Scanra. We aren't barbarians. Well, at least not knights. But this is different, I guess. I mean, these people are all just Lower City folk, not people who wasted seven years of their lives smacking rough hewn practice swords against padded poles. They actually care about their families and want to support them and keep criminals like me in jail. Or have us executed on Traitors' Hill. _Fear engulfed her. Sure, she could act as brash as she wanted, but she was still human. Afraid of the unknown, of dying, of being left, dropped, hurt… Even if she wouldn't admit it, she was terrified.

The sound of light footsteps coming down the winding staircase at the end of the short hallway perplexed her. Her guard didn't exactly seem like the quietest man alive. Maybe they were sending an interrogator down? But she knew enough about the prison system to know that they- the prisoners- were brought up to the interrogation room. Sitting up, she silently slid off the pallet and darted to the dark well of shadow next to the entrance. A flickering light, most likely from a torch appeared near the doorway, yet not permeating the cloak of darkness she hid herself in. The backlit figure seemed vaguely familiar, but she couldn't see his face. When the mystery man place the torch in the empty bracket on the wall and his face became visible, shock filled her, as well as shame, delight, and embarrassment. She stepped into the light.

"Da?" she asked softly. Her father's eyes widened in shock.

"Aly? What…"

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?" he said, but there was something in his eyes. They were cold. "Sorry for killing over eighteen people? Please tell me what you're sorry for."

Aly looked at her father with an emotion he'd never seen in her eyes: hate. "I'm sorry for shaming you and Ma. I'm not sorry for loving Rand or protecting Pyro and the rest of them. I will not say that I'm sorry for having a life. For doing just as you and Ma told me to: to do something with my life. You took my life away when I left the Copper Isles, and I forgave you for that. But I can't do that again. Never again."

"Took your life away? What did you have in the Copper Isles, exactly?"

Anger filled her, and she wrapped her hands around the cold bars of her prison, looking directly into her father's eyes. "I had a child and a husband! I had a queen who I would do anything for! I had Fesgao, Chenaoul, and the rest of the rebels. I had a network of spies throughout the Yamani Islands, Carthak, Galla, Tusaine, Tortall, and every other country in the Eastern Lands. I've only held onto one part of that: I still lead Her Majesty's spies."

Her father looked weary. "If you had told me this earlier, I would have let you stay there."

"Yes, but would Ma have let me stay?"

"I would have talked her around."

She shook her head. "It doesn't matter anymore. I'm past that now. Now, why are you here?"

"Rand, as you call him, told me to get you out of prison safely with a clean record. If I did that, he'd talk. If I didn't, he'd kill me."

"I'm not leaving without him. I refuse, Da."

George stared deeply into his daughter's eyes for awhile, sadness and pride in his eyes. "Lass, you don't realize how much like your mother you are,"

He became serious and calculated for a minute. "I'm not sure how to go about this, though. I'll think on this for awhile. Lass," he reached through the bars and wrapped one hand around the back of her neck,"Just be as safe as you can, alright?"

She smiled tremulously. "I should be pretty safe Da. Rand's got a lot of power here, unsurprisingly."

Even if it was true, they both knew that she was saying it to comfort him. And herself.


	6. Chapter 4

~Rand~

The depressingly gray walls seemed to press in on Rand from all sides. George had been gone for what seemed like hours, even though it was probably more like forty minutes. _Hm. I guess time seems to go faster in prison._ He twisted in the chair, pulling at the leather restraints that held his midsection firm to the cold wood. He stopped squirming when he heard the light shuffling of feet. _George._ He thought instantly. The rattling of keys alerted him, and he frowned in confusion. He was almost positive that George hadn't locked the door behind him. There wasn't a need to, after all. His attention was jerked back to the door as it swung inward on squeaking hinges. The Lord Provost stuck his head into the room with a confused expression on his face, clearly wanting to ask why the room hadn't been locked. His eyes hardened as he saw that Rand was alone.

"Where's George?" Rand narrowed his eyes for a minute and didn't answer. The Provost shrugged. "Well, when you see him, tell him that he's got a message from the castle."

The Provost left the room and Rand relaxed. At least he wasn't going to have to endure that man blathering at him. The Provost wasn't what you'd call 'reserved' with his speech.

While Rand was musing, he didn't see the door open. George entered, looking shaken and livid. His face was slightly flushed and he could tell that it wasn't from exertion. He stared at Rand with a mixture of confusion and fury. After a couple minutes he spoke.

"What does she see in you?" Rand gave him an odd smile.

"You're not the first person to wonder. I ask myself that question every godsdamned day."

He watched Rand for awhile, the fury leaving his face. "I wondered the same thing when Alanna finally accepted me."

Rand shut his eyes and sighed, opening them. "So I'm guessing that you'll help me?"

"Yes. I will. But it's not going to be as easy as Raul doing me a favor. Aly insists that I get you and the Yamani boy out of prison as well." Rand shot straight up in his chair, pain in his eyes.

"What!?"

"I don't understand it either, don't worry."

Rand exhaled softly. "Try and get us all out. Knowing Aly, if Pyro or I am still in prison and she's free, she'll either go right back to prison in a statement of rebellion or try and get us out herself. Not that I doubt her abilities, but she would take unneeded risk," he gave a small, pained smile. "She's a lot like Alanna that way. Always risks too much for what she believes."

George narrowed his eyes. "How do you know Alanna so well?" Rand raised an eyebrow and smiled genuinely for the first time.

"I've been regaled with tales of the not-so-famous side of the famous Lioness for quite awhile: her parenting side." George laughed.

"Yes. Aly never liked to be restricted, and Alanna never liked to see her daughter running as wild as she used to. Their personalities clashed quite a bit. Alan was the only one that could get them to stop fighting, even if it usually meant throwing a tantrum. Aly and Alanna are so alike, and neither of them can stand to see Alan in pain or angry."

Rand nodded, shaking his head. He knew how close Aly and Alan were from the times Alan came down to the Dancing Dove with his sister. Alan also never approved of his sister and Rand.

The Next Day

~Alan~

Meeting his mother at the practice courts when she was in Corus was part of his routine, but today as he left the pages wing silently with his practice sword in hand, he was worried, an unusual emotion for him. Usually he spent a lot of his time with Aly, his twin sister, when she was in Corus. This time, though, she had spent her first two days up at the castle with him and Thom and then disappeared, as far as he knew. Shaking his head, he tried to forget about it. If he wasn't focusing, his mother wouldn't be happy with him. But then again, she had been as preoccupied as he had after he told her about Aly's vanishing act.

Rounding the corner into the first court where he had arranged to meet his mother, he found his father and mother arguing heatedly.

"Alanna, listen to me! I have to help Raul with something and I can't be up here sitting at Jon's council table, listening to all his advisors bicker like old women!"

"Yes, well, if you remember correctly, you're required to!"

His father's face was angry and tired. "ALANNA! I'm trying to get our daughter out of PRISON, for gods' sakes, and you want me to sit up here and listen to the accountants list how much gold the kingdom has spent on rye!" Alan stepped forward now.

"Aly's in prison? Let me guess, it's Rand's fault?" he asked sarcastically, masking his fear. His parents turned to him, shocked to see that he was there. His mother looked between her son and her husband.

"Aly's i-in what?! Prison? There had better be a wonderful explanation for this," she said, looking at George. Then she turned to Alan. "Who's Rand, and why would he have anything to do with your sister being in prison?"

Alan rolled his eyes. "If he's got anything to do with her being in prison, which I'm sure he does, he's the one who got her there."

"WHAT! I'll kill the bastard! I'll-" George cut her off.

"Stop it, Alanna. Rand has nothing to do with Aly's imprisonment. Well, indirectly, I suppose, but it's not like he framed her. No, Aly brought this onto herself."

"Brought this onto herself?! None of this would have happened if she had never met him! I don't know what happened, but she wouldn't have been there if she'd never met him!" he shouted, not realizing that tears were pouring down his face. He hated Rand for taking his sister away from him. Occasionally, Aly would get enamored with some boy, but she would always, always come back to Alan. That was until he had started page training. She tried and tried to get him to stay, but she couldn't get him to stay or come back. So she had drawn away and met Rand, then began to follow their father's path. Away from him.

"Alan" said Alanna gently, but Alan shook his head and walked away, fiercely flicking the tears from his face. He didn't need sympathy. Not from them. The only thing he needed was to have Aly back.


	7. Chapter 5

~Aly~

She looked down at Rand's peaceful face with relief. With him around, the guards didn't harass her. They didn't do anything to her physically, but she didn't exactly like being called streetwalker, even if she prostituted herself infrequently.

Turning her attention to the young guard at the door, she leered at him. He blushed fiercely and turned his back to her. She grinned at Rand and he opened his eyes, smirking back at her. She pushed his head away and stood up, gesturing for him to sit, not sprawl. He did so, and she straddled him. Raising his eyebrows in surprise, he looked over her shoulder at the guard who was turned away from them. A slow, knowing smile spread across his face and he slipped his hands up her waist and slid his hands up to her breasts, pulling the fabric of her dress down. She moaned softly, putting her head against his shoulder, arching her back against his groping touch. A clatter of noise on the stairs alerted her. She pulled away and adjusted her dress.

"Just when I was starting to like the cages," she muttered just loud enough for Rand to hear. He failed miserably at trying not to laugh.

Climbing off of his lap, she faced the front of their cell. The guard was talking to three people. One of them was short, though muscular. The other two were clearly male, one more powerfully built and the other taller than the rest of the group. The tall man was talking to the guard, while the other two waited impatiently. Aly adjusted her Sight and swallowed, nervousness filling her being. It was her mother, father, and twin brother.

~Rand~

Aly tensed next to him. She was staring fiercely at the three dark figures, anxiety showing in her eyes. He put his arm around her shoulders and leaned in to whisper into her rear.

"Al, who is it?"

"My mother, father, and brother." His eyes widened.

"Oh. You know what, I never thought that the first time that I'd meet your mother would be when I got her daughter into prison."

Aly didn't respond, just turned her attention away. He followed her gaze and saw that the guard was stepping aside to let Aly's family pass. The short one- her mother, he realized- lead the way. She was striding purposefully toward the cell and Rand was suddenly very glad that weapons weren't allowed in the prison.

~Alanna~

Alanna strode quickly toward the badly lit cell where she could see two figures. One was clearly a woman, her daughter, but the other was unfamiliar. He was obviously male and in good shape, but didn't have huge muscles. He was more like George, who was lean and slim. Or used to be. He was gaining a tiny bit of weight, but so was Jon, Thayet and she.

Shaking her head, she pulled a torch from the wall and replaced it in a bracket nearer to the cell, causing light to flood over the figures. Her daughter had contusions marring her skin and blood crusting her hands and matting her hair, and was sitting next to a tall man. He was about her age but couldn't be called a boy. He had an air of command about him and wasn't intimidated by her. Most young people were, but he was different.

He had a right to that though. He was the Rogue after all, and one of the youngest in history. She sat on the bench and surveyed her daughter, who was watching her mother warily, her hand on the man's shoulder. _Stop thinking of him as 'the man'. His name is Rand."_ Said one part of her mind. Another, angrier part of her, the part that had got her into so much trouble, said not to get too familiar with him.

Alanna didn't want her daughter to have anything to do with this man. He wasn't honest or good. Why couldn't her daughter settle down with a buffle-brained noble and stay safe? _Because, you idiot, she's too much like you to take the smart or easy route. She's enough like her father to take the stupid hard route and turn it into a slightly logical hard route, though. _

"So," said Alanna. She didn't know what else to say. It's not like she was ever prepared to confront her daughter in prison. It wasn't something any mother wanted to prepare for, so they didn't.

"Hullo, Ma. How has your day been?"

Alanna could have cried. _Oh, Aly. What have you gotten yourself into?_

"Aly. Aly…I don't know what to say. I just…why? What in the world provoked you into doing this?"

Aly smiled at her mother, sympathy and relief on her face. "Ma, I chose to do this. I wanted to be free…and I don't know. I just-" Aly broke off, tears streaking down her face. Rand squeezed her shoulder and she buried her head against his chest. After she composed herself, she faced her mother again. "Gods…I honestly don't know. I guess it was a bit spur of the moment. I was mad at you for something…can't remember what, exactly, and I ran out. I met Rand," she nods to the man. "And that was that. Helped with another rebellion, overthrew another tyrant, fell in love with another foxy man…" she grinned at her mother's stricken expression. "You know. All in a day's work. Getting men to worship the ground I walk on, killing kings, and starting chaotic riots are all in my repertoire."

"Oh Aly. You're so…I don't know what the hell you are. Why are you in this mess? Please just answer that question for me. Please."

"Because, Ma. Because I'm too much like you and Da not to be in this mess."

**I have to say two things:**

**One. I haven't put a disclaimer on any of this, and since I don't want to update my chapters or anything, I'm putting it here. Tamora Pierce, that breathtakingly superb literary goddess, owns the Eastern Lands and most of inhabitants. I own several characters, but she owns the rest.**

**Two: This is a filler. I will endeavor to post again today, but I still have to articulate my most genuine apologies profusely.**


	8. Chapter 6

**A/N-I'm sososososo sorry. I haven't updated since, well, June. I plan to update more often now. This is also a filler, but I have to get back in my groove.**

"What are you going to do, George?"

"I'm working on it, Alanna. I have to get all of her acquaintances out as well. She won't go without them."

"I wouldn't either!"

"I know that. I could fake their deaths, but then they couldn't go back to their families without panic. I'm not sure right now. They think that I'm still trying to get Rand to talk, so I can buy them time that way. No one can be accused until we learn who most of them are."

"One would assume, George, one would assume."

"And you know what I've told you about assuming," said George reprovingly to his wife. "Either way, can we back to the subject at hand?"

"Yes, that. I have an important question."

"Well…"

"Why can't we just ask Jon to get them out? I mean, he's the swiving King!"

"Well, dear, there is an obvious answer to that. See, if Jon gets a rapist by accomplice, an arsonist, a committer of treason, and several people on the other side of the law out of prison, how would that affect people's attitudes toward him?"

"Still, George, he is the King. It's not like he would have to-"

"What about me being king?" came a voice from the doorway. George and Alanna looked up from their loudly whispered conversation to see Jon, Thayet, and Gary standing in the entrance. Alanna glared.

"Jon, if I wanted you to know what we were talking about, I would be having this conversation with _you, _now wouldn't I?"

Jon raised an eyebrow and Alanna continued to look fiercely at him. "Alanna, if you want me to order you to tell me, I will. It's your decision."

"Jon, since when have I ever done something just because you ordered me to? And stop looking so supercilious, you give me the impression that you're Roger that way."

"Alanna," he said, his voice warning.

"You know what, Jon? Maybe I just don't want to talk about it. So why don't you please leave me _alone?!_"

As she said this, she didn't realize that she was crying. But then again, she didn't actually consider it crying when it wasn't an emotional thing. Which it wasn't. She was just frustrated about Aly's imprisonment, that's all.

_Who the hell are you kidding, Alanna. It is most definitely personal and emotional. _

She turned away, pressing her face into George's shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her and all of the people watching suddenly saw the worry and exhaustion etched into his face. Jon's eyebrows furrowed.

"Now we need to know. We'll help you anyway you can."

George sighed and gestured around Alanna toward the inner chambers of the rooms reserved for the family of Pirate's Swoop.

"Sit down and get comfortable. It'll be a short story, but I'm sure that that there is going to be questions. Lots of them."


	9. Chapter 7

**Author's Note- I am sorry for my lack of updates. Here's this, though. It's a bit of a filler/cliffhanger, but I'm working on chapter eight and am aiming to have it up by Monday. Thanks,**

** AlianneLovesLiam**

They entered the well-lit suite and everybody sat down and watched George expectantly. Alanna had stopped crying, but she was unusually silent. George rubbed his forehead briefly and sighed.

"Where do I start?" he said.

"The beginning?" asked Gary hesitantly, furrowing his brow and screwing up his mouth. George glared at him.

"It was a rhetorical question, boy. I know where I'm going to start; I'm just figuring how to word it.

Anyway, yesterday, I wasn't at that gods' cursed meeting and there was a reason for it. Raul, the Lord Provost, asked me to help him question someone. Turns out that last night, the Rogue and several of his people burned a merchant's house to the ground, killing him and his family. The Provost Guard reached the place quick enough to arrest the Rogue and several of his people, though the man could have left. Yesterday, they tried to question him and it didn't work, so Raul asked me to help with the interrogation. I agreed, for the sole reason that I'd be able to get out of the meeting. When I got there though, he willingly talked to me. I asked him why he was talking so easily to me and he drained the listening spells in the room. He asked me a lot of questions that he shouldn't have known the answers to, but did. After he was satisfied that I was yes, George Cooper, he requested that I go to high security cell 23 and talk to his lass. He said that if I got all charges against her dropped and her out of prison with a clean record, he would tell me anything that I wanted to know. So of course, I went to see who it was before I did anything." George stopped then and sighed.

"It was Aly. I could easily get her out, but she won't leave without any of her friends. I'm still working on a plan. So far, there isn't one that I can think of that involves Aly staying in Tortall. If it all comes down to it, she may not be able to. Ever."

Thayet shook her head. "No. I won't allow it. She can't leave for that long! She's mine and Jon's godsdaughter!"

"Thayet, can you think of a different plan that won't cause trouble and controversy? I may have to send her away for life and there's getting around it."

"We'll all think on it, George," said Jon, worry and concentration etched into his face. "If we can't figure something, she may have to leave the country for a few years, but I won't consent to her leaving for life."

"Thank you," said Alanna wearily.


	10. Chapter 8

Sighing, Jon contemplated the problem. Yes, he loved his godsdaughter, and would do anything for her, including get her out of prison, but George had brought up a fair point. He could easily and somewhat quietly get her charges dropped, but the treason was another thing. He knew, of course, that it was only technically treason and that she wasn't targeting his family, but others wouldn't see it that way.

There was a knock on his door, jerking him out of his reverie.

"Enter."

"Don't get formal with me, Jon," said Alanna, who already had the door open and was standing in front of his desk by that time.

Jon rolled his eyes. "Aren't you supposed to be more civil to you liege lord, Champion?"

"Aren't you supposed to have more decorum? Rolling your eyes isn't exactly kingly, you know," she shot back, though without her usual fire.

"It'll be all right, Alanna."

"I know," she moaned. "But she's my daughter, Jon, and I have to worry about her."

~:~

Aly leaned against Rand, sputtering. They had just given her The Drink, which meant that they placed her on a board so her feet were above her head and poured water across her face to simulate drowning.

"Obviously," she whispered, her throat sore. "The Drink isn't barbaric enough to not be allowed. They were pretty easy on me, but I'd rather not drown on dry land. It's unnatural."

He kissed the side of her head. "Don't you worry, lass. I'll keep you alive if it's the last thing I do."

She raised her brows at him. "Aren't I the bodyguard, though?"

He didn't respond to her jest, only arranged her more comfortably on his lap and said, "Sleep."

She woke at the loud thump half and hour later. "What in the name of the sweet mother of mares?!" she gasped out. Rand held her arm.

"Just our daily gruel, darlin'. Don't worry." He got up, sliding her off his lap and picked the tray up off the floor. Bringing back over to the slat-bed, he wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Watery soup-at least it's warm, brown bread-stale, and water-fresh. I've definitely had much better meals in my lifetime. I'm royalty! Shouldn't I get treated with more respect?"

"I just want food. Don't care how bad it is, either. I mean, it could be bugs or rats or some such thing."

"Rat is pretty good, actually. As long as it's cooked."

"I agree. You definitely have to get the rats near houses, though-particularly noble ones. Sewer rats tend to be a bit stringy and taste…odd."

He snorted and she grabbed her portion, eating it slowly so that it would fill her better. The food, though inadequate, made her comfortable and she was asleep within minutes.

~:~

Yet again, George was thinking. It was hard not to, with a problem this serious. Jon came up to him and leaned against the balcony rail with a sigh.

"Mithros, I feel old."

"I think I know what I'm going to do. It'll have to wait a few months till the dry season though and it isn't planned to well, but…"

Jon looked at him sharply. "Tell me."

George heaved a sigh. "In the dry season, there are fires all the time. Since the prison is made mostly out of stone, they don't bother putting fire protection magic on the place. But the thing is, there isn't much stone in the high security cells and if they caught fire they'd burn easily. So, hypothetically speaking, if a mage could protect people other than themselves from fire, that mage could protect Aly and her people –they're the only ones in the high security section- and they could leave through a prearranged exit and sneak into the back of Olau townhouse without being seen, which is possible. There they could stay for a night or so and then, under cover of darkness, we could sail them down to the Swoop, give them the supplies they'd need for wherever we'd send them, horses, and they could leave."

"That sounds good, but what about Aly? She's well-known in Court and if she died, people would remember it. Even if the news of her death died down, people would remember if she returned."

"People don't need to know that she died, Jon. Remember when she ran off when she was sixteen? We can just say she ran off again and nobody will be all that surprised."

Jon contemplated that for a second and sighed. "There's a reason I could never be a spymaster, George. I think too politically."

"You do, and that brings up another topic. You're not immortal, Jon, and neither am I. We're going have to retire eventually."

"Are you calling me old?"

"Be quiet. Now, we talked about Aly coming back and she'll need a way to keep herself. I was thinking, maybe she should come back when I retire as spymaster and take up my position. She could serve as spymaster to you and to Roald after you."

"That would work. She is quite brilliant at mind games, interrogation, codes, and what not."

George looked proud. "I taught my girl well."

Jon nodded, his brow furrowed. "I'll have to make her nobility. Unless she marries, she won't have any lands or dowry, which she will definitely need if she's to serve as my or Roald's spymaster easily."

"I'll leave the technicalities to you. Right now, my Lioness needs to be tamed."

**A/N- Short, I know. This just felt like the right place to end things. I'll hopefully update more frequently. And there is something else. In this story, Aly isn't 16, she's 19, and Rand is 21. I realized that I got the ages wrong and thought that I'd tell you. Thanks!**


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